


you can call it love

by orphan_account



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Closeted Character, Fluff and Angst, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Internalized Homophobia, Light Angst, M/M, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-13
Updated: 2016-09-13
Packaged: 2018-08-14 19:51:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,137
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8026753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: "We’re just two guys, hanging out, taking a walk at night. I totally didn’t just rip you off the wrong side of the overpass.”Or, Mingyu is emotionally compromised and Wonwoo has a lot of time on his hands.





	you can call it love

**Author's Note:**

> hi! this is completely unbeta'd and i'm posting it at like, 1am in my timezone. i'm sorry if anything doesn't make sense! this is basically like, 5,000 words of word vomit. even so, i hope you enjoy it???
> 
> i know this is literally the most basic prompt of all time and i apologize. i tried to go in a different direction with it? at least a little bit? please forgive me!!! im used to just writing drabbles and fluff and stuff, i'm trying something new!
> 
> the title is from the song love by primary ft. bumkey and paloalto! it's a bop!!!! highly recommended!
> 
> i'll probably edit this in the morning!!!

                There are three reasons Wonwoo avoids going to the convenience store past midnight: One; drunk people, two; dumbass teenagers, and three; a disgusting hybrid of the two. Unfortunately, it’s two o’ clock in the morning and he _really_ needs chips. Even more unfortunately, there seems to be a reason two or three who climbed over the tall fence on the side of the overpass on the way to the convenience store. His uniform is untucked and disheveled, tie hung around his neck like a scarf. It’s the last day for most of the high schools where Wonwoo lives—a perfect occasion to play around on a particularly tall overpass, apparently.

                “Hey,” Wonwoo calls, and it’s too quiet for the boy to hear. He shouts in his direction. “Hey!”

                The kid finally looks over, thank god—Wonwoo can’t see his face because he forgot his glasses at home and the street is lit dimly as ever. Half jogging towards him, Wonwoo soon realizes this kid doesn’t look much like a kid at all, in fact, he’s got an inch or two on Wonwoo. It’s shocking; Wonwoo is tall as it is. The kid goes back to glaring at the cars below, holding onto the fence behind him tightly.

                Wonwoo’s behind him at the fence then, grabbing his shirt roughly and tugging through the latticing. He isn’t usually stern, especially with teenagers, but he figures there’s a time for everything.

“What the hell are you doing, man? You can’t mess around like that, you’re going to get yourself killed.”

                The guy says nothing, breathing roughly.

                “How’d you get over the fence, anyway? Listen, you can go to an amusement park if you’re looking for thrills—this seriously isn’t safe. Someone driving down there has probably already called the cops on you, dude. Do you need help climbing back over?”

                The guy shuffles a bit in his spot, unable to pry his eyes off the street below. “Do I know you?” Like, from school?”

                “I don’t think so.”

                “I’m Kim Mingyu.”

                “Yeah, nope.” Wonwoo wants to say he couldn’t care less about who he is right now, but he decides against it. “Do you need help or not?”

                “You’re not going to call, like, a psychiatric hospital, right?” He asks, “And you won’t tell my parents?”

                “No?” Wonwoo is audibly confused. “Please, dude, just get down before you get in trouble.”

                The process of helping Mingyu back over the fence is probably the scariest thing Wonwoo has ever done—they cling to each other for dear life as Mingyu shakily scales the fence, looking down the entire time, hands unbelievably sweaty and tense. When he’s finally back over, he sits himself down on the sidewalk, knees to his chest. Wonwoo still hasn’t gotten a good look at his face.

                “I think I’m gonna throw up.” He whispers flatly, wrapping his arms around his calves tightly.

                “Please don’t. Let’s just act natural, yeah? If the police come, you didn’t do anything,” Wonwoo reasons, tugging at Mingyu’s shirt again in attempts to pull him up onto his feet. “Come to the convenience store with me. We’re just two guys, hanging out, taking a walk at night. I totally didn’t just rip you off the wrong side of the overpass.”

                The kid, Mingyu, laughs bitterly into his arms, which are now resting on top of his knees. “Oh my god, dude, how tired _are_ you?”

                “What do you mean?” Wonwoo backs away from Mingyu slightly, suddenly hyperaware of his pajama pants.

                “You really don’t—oh my god. I wasn’t messing around up there; I was going to…”

                Holy shit. He was going to jump. Wonwoo tries not to freak out—did he just save someone’s life?

                “Jesus, um,” Wonwoo starts, oddly sated, “well. You still don’t want the cops to find you here, right? They’ll institutionalize you.” He probably should be institutionalized, now that Wonwoo thinks about it—he seemed too chicken to hurt himself too bad, but if he made it this far… “You should really stand up, let me walk you home.”

                “I can walk myself home.” He insists. He crooks his neck up to look at Wonwoo and the light from the street lamp above hits him perfectly—he’s handsome. Really handsome, like, idol handsome, all high cheekbones and clear skin.

                Wonwoo’s fidgeting, pushing his glasses up. “I don’t mean to sound like a dick, but… if I walk away, there’s nothing stopping you from… trying that again, you know?”

                Mingyu murmurs angrily under his breath, scoffing and turning his head away. “Yeah? And what’s stopping me from trying again tomorrow?”

                Wonwoo shoves his hands into his pajama pockets. “I heard that.”

                “Why do you care, man? Just go home.”

                “I’m trying to help you.”

                “I don’t need help.”

                “Yes you do,” Wonwoo is laughing, but he doesn’t know why. “you have to stop being so angsty, bro. You’re not doing so good if you ended up over that fence. You need help—like, right now, but also in general. Like, a therapist.”

                Mingyu rubs his face almost aggressively, like he’s trying to pull his skin off, eventually moving to his hair to scratch his scalp before sighing dejectedly. “You’re right. I’m really sorry,” He says, sincerity dripping from his voice, “I’m an idiot.” Now Mingyu is laughing—it sounds like crying, almost.

                Mingyu apologizes many more times that night. Once after Wonwoo buys him ramen from the convenience store (Mingyu didn’t have his wallet), once after he accidentally nudges Wonwoo’s foot under the table in front of the store (Wonwoo hopes it was on purpose), and one final time in front of Mingyu’s family’s apartment door, a short and polite “sorry about tonight” (The air of the situation made it feel like Wonwoo should be kissing him goodnight.) Wonwoo says it’s okay each time—and it really is okay, he’s not as bothered by his presence as he thought he’d be, though. Mingyu’s much less immature than he’d expected; his night with him feels strangely like a first date, past Mingyu’s initial emotional crisis. He’s so much more composed after that, less dramatic, cracking jokes and slowly regaining the sanity he must have been missing planted on the other side of that fence.

                Wonwoo runs through almost every conversation he had with Mingyu from that night in his head before he goes to sleep that night.                He wishes he had asked him why, but he ended up just asking him the basics. Mingyu goes to a broadcasting high school—he just graduated, so he calls Wonwoo “hyung.” Mingyu didn’t give him his number, so he probably has no desire to speak to Wonwoo again.

                One thing Mingyu said about himself, though, was that there was nothing stopping him from trying again the next night, so Wonwoo goes out of his way to sit idly on the sidewalk in front of where he was the day before. He goes out around midnight, and his phone has around 2 hours of battery, so he has time—he doesn’t even know if Mingyu will come, but some part of him hopes he does. Meeting Mingyu was like seeing a stray cat, Wonwoo thinks, he has an impulse to take care of it but he probably has no business in doing so. Then again, who will take care of Mingyu if he doesn’t? He didn’t seem to have excellent reasoning skills.

                At around 1:30am, he hears footsteps. That’s normal, in the past hour and a half he’s heard many people walk by him, but these steps stop at his feet abruptly, frozen in their place.

                “Hyung,” He says, a mixture of impressed and disappointed, “it uh, it looks like you caught me.”

-

                This time, instead of Mingyu apologizing at his own front door, he’s apologizing in front of Wonwoo’s before stepping inside tentatively. Wonwoo told Mingyu he owed him an explanation, at least, and then he’d leave him alone. Maybe things would sort themselves out if he at least talked about it, Wonwoo figures—Mingyu doesn’t seem too reserved, though, clearing his throat as soon as he hits the couch.

                “Okay. So,” Mingyu says while wringing his hands, “my—wait, promise that we’re never gonna talk again, okay? Promise you really don’t know my parents or my friends?” He’s so panicked Wonwoo has to stifle a laugh.

                “Yeah, of course.”

                “Okay. _So,”_ He begins, trembling sigh forcing itself from his nose, “My girlfriend dumped me.”

                Wonwoo tries not to look dumbfounded and exhausted. It doesn’t work.

                “It’s not like that! It’s more complicated than that, I—” A deep breath. “I’m gay. We were dating since… the summer before Sophomore year? She met my parents. They liked her. She was the only girl I’ve ever trusted that much—and like, I didn’t love her or anything, obviously, I feel like shit about that part too. She loved me a lot, but she just felt like my friend. Anyway, I trusted her, and I figured we could get married eventually—like, I could tolerate the sex and the kissing and stuff, as much as I didn’t like it—and I could just… do stuff on the side. You know.” Wonwoo hums.

                “It was hurting her a lot, man. I feel so bad. I always got mad at myself because I was making plans for the future centered around practically ruining her life, and she must’ve got that. So she dumped me. I’m kind of glad but I’m also so fucking scared, like, I have to _deal_ with being gay now. I don’t have this layer of... delusion. I could convince myself everything was fine because I was in a straight relationship. It sucks. I sorta hate myself.”

                Wonwoo nods. It sounds rough, but he can’t say he isn’t pleasantly surprised that he’s just struggling with sexuality rather than something much more (or much less) tormenting. He pauses before he speaks, exhaling slowly. “That’s funny, actually.”

                “How is that funny?” Mingyu sounds ruined, on the verge of frustrated tears.

                “I’m gay, too.”

                “…Oh.”

                “Mm.” Wonwoo adjusts his frames. Mingyu doesn’t look at him, and seems like he wants to leave or at least scooch further away from him on the couch, if that’s even possible. Wonwoo tries to meet Mingyu’s eyes the best he can. “You should tell people, dude. Seriously. I promise it won’t go as bad as you think it will, especially now that you graduated.”

                “I _can’t,_ oh my _god.”_ The last word sounds like a sob. His face falls into his hands. “I’ll never be able to get a job, I’ll never find a guy who wants to do anything but hook up…”

                “You can’t be worrying about that. You’re like, what, seventeen?”

                “Eighteen.”

                Wonwoo extends his arm to place a hand on his shoulder. “Look, I’m not good at pep talks. All I can say is you gotta stop shitting on yourself about it. You won’t magically become straight, you gotta come to terms with it, yeah? You’ve got time.”

                Mingyu’s head rests against the back of the couch. Wonwoo thinks he looks like he looks a little dead or at least defeated, but _man_ is his jawline nice.

                The hopeless, overgrown teenager doesn’t say anything for the rest of the night—not until he’s about to duck out unannounced an hour or so later, after the episode of the drama they had been watching ended. “I, um. I know I made you promise that we’d never talk again, but…”

                “Want me to put my number in your phone?” Mingyu nods slowly, so Wonwoo rouses himself from the couch with a grunt and does exactly that, his body so close to Mingyu in his narrow entryway that he swears he can feel his body heat.

                “Thanks, hyung,” Mingyu says after Wonwoo hands his phone back, staring down at him dumbly with a faint blush on his cheeks. “I, um. I feel like I should hug you.”

                That’s fair, Wonwoo thinks. They’ve hardly touched or even looked each other in the eye since Wonwoo was pulling him by the shirt over a fence—so Wonwoo finds himself wrapping his arms around Mingyu’s waist with little reluctance. It’s only a little awkward, only because Mingyu still has his phone in his hand and can’t rest it on Wonwoo’s back. Despite everything, Mingyu still melts into Wonwoo’s touch; Wonwoo swears he can feel all of Mingyu’s muscles relax with a drawn out exhale. Pulling away, Mingyu looks like he could cry, his eyes sparkling and lips upturning.

                He leaves after that, fumbling with his phone and the strap of his backpack before Wonwoo hears the soft click of the door shutting.

-

1:20am

                wonwoo hyung?

hey mingyu

                how did you know it was me??

who else would be texting me at 1 am

an hour after you left my apartment

                ah... youre right

                how’s it going?

still watching that drama

you?

                when can I see you again?

-

                They’re together later that week, at night again, but this time much earlier. 8 o’clock at night seems much less vulnerable and intimidating—Wonwoo and Mingyu walk beside each other easily and carelessly, no real plan of where they want to go, until they end up grabbing sandwiches and sitting down in the grass of the park. Mingyu talks Wonwoo’s ear off the entire time they walk around downtown, so Wonwoo welcomes silence when they’re finally eating.

But soon, Mingyu is rubbing his hands off on his pants and swallowing the last of his food, covering his mouth and clearing his throat with purpose. “We should talk about you.”

                “I’m more of a listener, honestly.” That and Wonwoo is still picking at his sandwich, his miniscule appetite leaving a sizable bite left that he crumbles in his hands, wrapped tightly in a napkin. Mingyu looks like he just lost a loved one—it’s so endearing that Wonwoo doesn’t even regret not asking Mingyu if he wanted to finish it.

                Mingyu licks his lips and looks straight ahead, right at Wonwoo. “I’m just trying to be polite, hyung. Really, you should tell me about yourself.”

                It’s not a terrible idea, so Wonwoo complies. “Um, well. I’m Jeon Wonwoo. I live alone. I have a job and it pays, like, surprisingly well—I’m still gonna go to college, but I’m taking a year off to work. I’m a photographer, it was just a hobby, but—I applied to a high end photography studio just to say I did, but they actually went nuts over my portfolio.”

                “Seriously? That’s sick.”

                “Thank you. It’s fun.” A short, almost appreciative pause settles between them—Mingyu nods slowly and fiddles with his jacket.

                Mingyu grins smugly, glancing up at Wonwoo from where he was re-tying his shoe. “You should tell me more.”

                “Like what?”

                “I dunno. What kind of people do you hang out with?”

                “I, uh, don’t? I spend a lot of time at home. I read. Take pictures and stuff.”

                “You hang out with me.”

                Wonwoo chuckles with a smile that makes his nose crinkle. “Yeah.”

                “Do you have a boyfriend?”

                “Nah, I’ve never had one. I mean, I’ve been with guys, but…” But only for sex, Wonwoo thinks. He doesn’t mean for it to be that way, just as he doesn’t mean to frown and go quiet in the moment, allowing Mingyu to fill the gap in the conversation eagerly.

                “I have a job. I work at a coffee shop.” Mingyu’s smile quickly turns into a grimace. “Wait, I _had_ a job. I quit because I planned on—I thought I was gonna…” Wonwoo places a hand on his shoulder, gently, as if silently dismissing the topic. Mingyu lets out a shaky sigh of relief. Yet another downhill exchange—Wonwoo cringes, but tries to pick it up again nonetheless.

                “I never got the hype over coffee, I don’t like it.” Wonwoo looks humorously pensive and Mingyu laughs, loud and hearty—Wonwoo thinks his face looks beautiful all scrunched up and lit so dimly that it looks like he’s glowing from within. Joining his laughter is easy and natural, but Wonwoo’s much quieter. He can’t take his eyes off Mingyu, who is now knocking his bony knuckles into Wonwoo’s bonier shoulder and letting his laugh fade with a whining sound.

                “You should have me make it for you, then. Maybe you’ll change your mind.”

-

11:04 pm

                thanks for today!!!!!

it’s no problem, you paid

                I owed you that one…. kekeke

                by the way youre really talented!!

???

                I looked up your name and found your website

                all your pictures are really pretty!

oh haha

thank you it means a lot

                it’s np!!

 

11:32 pm

… did you just order a print

                what?

i just got an order invoice from someone in your apt building

                that wasn’t me…

kim mingyu…

                jeon wonwoo…………..

well

enjoy your artsy picture of my unmade bed

good night, freak

                youre so mean!! :(

                i’m just trying to support you…

 

7:58 am

                hey, hyung

                are you still down to let me make you coffee…??

                when can you come over?

-

                “Does this count as a date?”

                That’s certainly a sudden question. Wonwoo thinks he might be blushing, blowing softly on his coffee and dreading the taste already, though Mingyu just handed it to him.

                “This is called a breve, it’s like a latte but with half-and-half instead of milk.” Mingyu comments quickly while fiddling with his fancy siphon coffee maker, “It’s good, I promise. I’m a little bit of a coffee snob, so…”

                Wonwoo is still trying not to swallow nervously when Mingyu plops down next to him with his own drink, staring at him with an expectant glint in his eyes—does he want Wonwoo to answer the question or take a sip?

                Wonwoo decides to take a sip and visibly winces when the hot liquid burns the tip of his tongue, making Mingyu giggle.

                Mingyu eventually sighs solemnly, a few sips into his coffee. “You don’t have to answer that question if you don’t want to. I don’t even know if I want it to be a date.” Mingyu looks irritated by himself, like he regrets seeing Wonwoo in the first place, like he’s trying to convince himself he has different intentions. Wonwoo, as unreceptive as he is, doesn’t want Mingyu to think he doesn’t care—he acts fast, wanting to sputter out his words but letting them come from his mouth slowly and carefully.

                He stares at Mingyu, his gaze laced with an array of emotions he can’t entirely explain. “I think it’d count as a date if we went out somewhere.”

                “Yeah?” He’s smiling, stupidly, hiding it with his mug and directing his eyes away from Wonwoo. “I’ve been craving pork.”   

-

                “Have you ever had sex with a guy?”

                There’s another sudden question, this time from Wonwoo, after he and Mingyu went out for samgyeopsal later that night—they’d been drinking, not heavily, but drinking nonetheless. Wonwoo doesn’t want to know how Mingyu acts when he’s drunk (it’s probably dramatic), so he cuts both of them off early. Wonwoo ends up somewhat tipsy, just a bit braver than usual, reclining on his bed beside Mingyu and prodding.

                “No.” Mingyu doesn’t sound uncomfortable, thank god. Wonwoo knows Mingyu likes him, but he doesn’t know his feelings past that.

                “Do you want to?” Wonwoo swallows. There’s a dumb, soft smile spreading across his face as he fiddles with the sleeves of his sweater.

                “Obviously.” Mingyu sighs wistfully, as if Wonwoo isn’t implying anything. Is he really that oblivious? Wonwoo gives him an expressionless stare until Mingyu’s eyes widen and he chokes on his own spit. “ _Oh_. Oh, um. Not, uh…”

                “Not with me?”

                “It’s not that! I’m just nervous. I… I want to, though.”

                Wonwoo takes that as a green light, placing his glasses on his side table and straddling himself comfortably on top of Mingyu, grasping his shoulders with a firm hand. Mingyu stares at him as if he’s seen God, and it’s so cute—Wonwoo swears he sees his pupils go wide and his lips twitch. He kisses him deeply, chastely, bringing a hand up to his face to run his thumb over his cheek.

                “Just tell me if it’s too much.”

                They have sex. It’s so oddly intimate in comparison to anything Wonwoo’s ever done that it doesn’t even feel like sex—Mingyu looks so overwhelmed that Wonwoo spends most of their time staying still and running his hands up and down his sides, stroking his hair and letting him breathe. Wonwoo is so used to feeling nothing, just getting the deed done quickly, but Mingyu is so perfect and so fragile beneath him—he looks up at Wonwoo like he’s in love, eyes lidded and dark, mouth parted slightly and panting. Wonwoo almost panics mid-climax when Mingyu whimpers his name, Wonwoo collapsing on top of him—like he’s done something wrong, scandalous—but Mingyu brings him back down to earth with his arms wrapping tightly around his waist, rubbing his back.

                Wonwoo wants to fall asleep with his head tucked into Mingyu’s shoulder, but he can’t. Mingyu probably has to go home so his parents don’t worry. Wonwoo, for the first time in his life, desperately wants to see the person he had sex with beside him in the morning—he wants to see Mingyu like he has been, calmer in the blissful moments between his unsureness—wants to know him as the less scared, on edge version of himself. Wonwoo knows loving him won’t fix him, but he’d be damned if he didn’t try.

                It would be difficult to tell Mingyu all that under normal circumstances, but Wonwoo reminds himself he is slightly inebriated; sometimes he finds it hard to speak when he looks at Mingyu, which is an entirely new feeling, so Wonwoo doesn’t look at him, just nuzzles closer to his neck, kissing it softly.

                “Hey—God, this is bad timing, but—just so you know, I like you a lot. Like, the L word, it’s pretty bad. So if that freaks you out, just bail now.”

                Wonwoo expects Mingyu’s breath to hitch, or at least for him to inhale to speak, but his breath is slow and even—he’s silent. Wonwoo waits a few moments for a reply, but Mingyu says nothing.

                Oh. He’s sleeping.

                “God.” Wonwoo says, giggling at his own stupidity and rolling over so he’s facing the wall, a few lonely inches away from Mingyu’s body, but still close enough to feel his body heat.

                Mingyu clears his throat quietly, but his voice is still raspy with exhaustion when he speaks up. “Wait, come back.”

                Wonwoo sighs, but rests his head on Mingyu’s chest nonetheless. Mingyu thanks him quietly and closes his eyes once more.

                “Did you—”

                “Did I hear you?” Mingyu asks for him, playing with a piece of his hair and swallowing harshly. “Yeah, I did. I’m trying to figure out if you’re being serious.”

                “I’m being serious, unfortunately.”

                “Unfortunately?” Mingyu scoffs, sounding offended but pressing his face into Wonwoo’s hair.

                “Yeah, I have a crush on the biggest idiot on planet earth.”

                “To be fair, he had a crush on you first.”

                “How do you know that?” They’re laughing now, breathily, and it’s the last thing Wonwoo remembers before they both give in to sleep. He thinks Mingyu might’ve said “I like you, too,” but, at the end of the night, that’s not something he didn’t already know.

                -

                Is Mingyu dying?

                It sounds like he is, Wonwoo thinks in his state of exhaustion, grabbing for his frames so he can sit up slightly and look at the balled up boy at the foot of his bed, crying to the point of coughing and wailing. Wonwoo’s body is too sleepy to be upright, so he settles for extending an arm to tug on the blanket around Mingyu’s naked hips. He’s greeted with a wracked sob and sniffle.

                “I don’t want to, I can’t do this, I can’t…”

                Wonwoo feels his heart drop. “Mingyu-ah,” His eyes close, and he tugs on the comforter again to beckon Mingyu closer. “Come here.”

                “It’s too much, I don’t want…” Mingyu’s rubbing at his eyes like he’s trying to gouge them out.

                “You have to stop being scared of yourself, man. It doesn’t make any sense.” He’s reasoning with him—a good idea in theory, but not in practice, because Mingyu just curls further in on himself and shakes harder. “I know you don’t like yourself right now, but if it helps—I like you all the time, and that really doesn’t make sense to me. I’ve never been like that, but you’re…” Different. New. Wonwoo tosses around words in his head, feeling sickeningly affectionate towards Mingyu even though he’s bawling loudly by his feet.

                “You won’t, I—augh…”

                Wonwoo pushes himself up with his elbows and lets his torso go limp against the wide expanse of Mingyu’s back, head resting right between his shoulder blades, wrapping arms around his waist and shushing him in attempt to make him stop shaking.

                “You don’t have to be, like, romantically involved with me, if you’re not ready. We don’t even have to be friends. I get it. I just want you to be happy.” Wonwoo wants to cringe at the severity of his last sentence, but he can’t. He’s telling the truth.

                Mingyu lets himself roll out of Wonwoo’s arms and leaves his bedroom. Wonwoo thinks he might be leaving, but he hears Mingyu trying to compose himself in the bathroom.

                He doesn’t mean to, but falls asleep to the sound of Mingyu’s sobs.

-

                “Wake up, Wonwoo hyung. I’m cooking.”

                Wonwoo’s much less immobile upon waking up in comparison to last night, which he curses silently. He’d do it aloud if he weren’t so flustered by Mingyu’s presence, and his voice, and his wide hands nearly enveloping his own, pulling him up out of bed and leading him to the kitchenette. They’re both clad in boxers, which is appropriate for the weather, but Wonwoo can’t stop looking at Mingyu’s chest and arms in the light of morning.

                “You’re awfully chipper.” He almost says “I’m glad you’re still here,” but swallows it before it spills from his lips.

                “Yeah, I decided that we’re soulmates.” Mingyu adjusts the knob for the burner he’s using as nonchalantly as he speaks. Wonwoo’s eyes go wide and his lips purse—Mingyu really is crazy, isn’t he? Wonwoo’s not surprised, but… “Don’t freak out! I’m only mostly serious.”

                “I’d love to hear you explain this.” Wonwoo leans back on his hands in a way that almost looks challenging.

                Mingyu drops an egg into the pan and giggles. He _giggles._ “I was crying a bunch last night, and I stopped when I realized I was probably supposed to meet you. Don’t you agree? Pulling someone off an overpass so they don’t jump off is like, something you hear happening in movies or in the news. To be fair, you didn’t think I was doing it on purpose at first, but… you happened to go to the convenience store at just the right time—I think I might’ve been too scared to jump once I got up there, but I couldn’t have gotten back over the fence on my own—I would’ve fell.”

                Wonwoo nods blankly, kicking his legs against the counter. His eyes are locked on the eggs; they look delicious, all sprinkled with salt and pepper and chives Wonwoo forgot he had. They’re over easy, too, just how he likes them.

                Mingyu haphazardly covers the eggs with a pot lid, leaning against the stove to look at Wonwoo. “Are you listening?” Wonwoo nods again. “Good. _So,_ I’m definitely supposed to be with you—not necessarily romantically, even though that’s what I’m planning on. I was at least supposed to _meet_ you.” Mingyu’s smiling, his teeth slightly crooked to match his lopsided grin that he tries to hide. “And if that was supposed to happen, then I must be alive for something, you know?”

                Wonwoo kicks his leg playfully, looking at the floor with a tiny smile, and Mingyu pulls the eggs off the heat before pinching his thigh in return. He then places himself between Wonwoo’s legs, wrapping his arms loosely around his bony hips, nuzzling into his chest.

                “I probably sound stupid, but it’s the first thing that’s made me feel less like shit about myself, so. I don’t know.” Mingyu runs a hand up Wonwoo’s side until it’s at his neck and tugging lightly at a strand of his hair. “It kinda makes me feel less weird about thinking I might be in love with you? Like, whatever higher power exists did me some good by sending someone exactly my type to save my life, right?

                Wonwoo clings back to him, his hands resting at the small of his back. “Yeah, and whatever higher power exists did me some good by sending someone exactly my type to risk his life within 50 feet of my apartment.” They share a laugh, feeling each other’s breath on bare skin. “It makes sense, don’t worry. I might be in love with you too.” It’s almost embarrassing, how strongly Wonwoo feels about him given the time they’ve known each other—how easily they let the conversation dissipate, leaning into each other lovingly for some time until Mingyu breaks away to put the eggs over steaming hot bowls of rice. They eat side by side at Wonwoo’s dining table rather than from across each other so they can push their chairs up beside each other, shoulders touching.

After a bout of silence, Wonwoo laughs breathily around a mouthful of rice. “That night—you’d think I’d end up being the oblivious one.”

                “I am not oblivious!” Mingyu protests. Pieces of food fly from his mouth before he manages to cover it with his hand.

                Wonwoo snorts. “Keep telling yourself that.”

                When Mingyu gets an angry call from his mom 10 minutes later, he lets his dishes clank in the sink, shimmies his clothes on and kisses Wonwoo the best he can with a giddy smile—he says “bye” far too many times, probably because he doesn’t want to leave. Wonwoo gets that. He gets him at least a little bit more than he did previously, which is refreshing to the point of a relaxed sigh escaping his chest as he watches Mingyu pad down the hallway of his apartment building, shoes half on.

                Mingyu texts him the second he gets home. Wonwoo hopes his mother didn’t lecture him too bad, but that doesn’t seem as important to Mingyu, all things considered.

-

11:19am

                sorry i left before I could help u with dishes!

how dare you, kim mingyu…

did you get home okay?

                hyung, when can i see you again?


End file.
